Chapter 1
Delilah
Friday, November 15th 2024
Delilah hides in her school’s darkroom to develop her film during lunch. The cafeteria is always too crowded and the smell of cheap greasy food makes her nauseous. So, every day at school she spends her free periods and lunches in darkness to develop her photos.
She isn’t sure where her talent for photography stems from. Her family members only pursued becoming doctors or lawyers; oddly enough, she never found interest in becoming one herself. Her parents think she’ll leave behind her silly hobbies of taking photos with her old vintage Nikon and follow in their footsteps. But in Delilah’s mind, she will never succumb to who they want her to be: a replica of themselves.
She likes to hide out here when she needs to escape the pressures her helicopter parents put on her. It’s quiet and comforting. She likes the smells of the chemicals used to develop her photos. It’s familiar, in a way. Due to how often she comes in here, the pungent metallic odor has become her new scented perfume. She frequently gets rashes on her hands from the chemicals, which irritates her fair porcelain skin. When there isn’t black nail polish to pick and peel off, she moves to her hands. She scratches and picks at them often, never leaving them alone enough to heal. She sometimes conceals her hands at home with long, baggy sleeves so her parents don’t notice, but it doesn’t bother her enough to hide them at school.
Delilah’s friend Sam stands near her, looking genuinely interested in the process of her work. He knows almost nothing about photography and probably will never understand it aside from the fact you press a button and an image magically appears. Nevertheless, he loves to watch her work during their lunch breaks.
The only source of light is the bright red LED safelights since natural lighting will damage the film. Delilah dips the film into a bin of developing chemicals and leaves it in for a few seconds. A few moments later, a black-and-white image appears. She only shoots in black and white because she believes it reveals the rawest form of a subject. Colors can be too busy and distract the viewer from the true meanings or stories behind a photo. It’s more than just snapping a moment in time or posting on Instagram simply to make others jealous of one’s fabulously fake life.
She ties her long, shaggy, raven-black hair out of her face into a low ponytail that often gets caught and snags on her multiple ear piercings.
She picks up the photo and clips it onto a wire to hang and dry. The image reveals the back of Sam’s curly hair and lean silhouette. He stands with his back turned away in the center of the camera, surrounded by the forest right behind their school. It’s a simple image, but in her eyes, she sees so much more. She sees themes of solitude, wonder, fear, loneliness, abandonment, and more.
“Wow Delilah, once again, I’m impressed.” Sam peers over her shoulder. “I’m the least photogenic person alive, yet you managed to make me look like a professional model or something.” He grins.
“Thanks; I hope the rest will turn out as good as this one. That day’s weather was overcast, so the hazy fog dramatized the shoot, making for better pictures.”
“It absolutely did! Even though your work sometimes is a bit too… scary and creepy for my taste, it’s eeriness makes it unique and captivating,” he says supportingly, even though she knows how much of a scaredy-cat he is.
“Speaking of scary and creepy, it’s my turn to pick the film for tonight’s movie night!” She says excitedly and instant dread creeps onto Sam’s face.
“Pleeeease don’t choose something too traumatizing this time. I don’t think my weak heart can handle another jumpscare.” he complains and begs, shaking her shoulders.
“The Exorcist is a classic! It’s not even that scary you big baby!” she exclaims and pushes his hands off her so she can pack up her things. “And you’re in charge of snacks,” she reminds him.
“It was like the Niagara Falls of vile when the little demon girl vomited all over a priest. It was nauseating.” He turns green just thinking about it.
“You got me to watch Paddington 2 when it was your turn to pick the movie. For the sixth time. I don’t understand how a talking bear who’s obsessed with marmalade is one of your favorite films.”
Sam looks offended and puts a hand over his heart, “Paddington 2 is a masterpiece of a movie which transcends the boundaries of a human family and a bear and conveys an important message of community and acceptance.”
Delilah held up her hands in surrender. There’s no debate when it comes to Sam and Paddington 2. He’s so sensitive. She finds it adorable.
“Don’t worry, I chose a movie with fewer bodily fluids and scary little girls.” (No she didn’t). She sighs and gives him a small, pathetic smile as she throws her backpack strap over her shoulder.
“Thanks,” he says while rolling his eyes, totally not believing a word she said. The end of lunch bell rings.
“We should head to class.” Sam’s already ready to go as she’s still cleaning up her station.
He’s always the one who’s on time for everything. She probably wouldn’t have heard or noticed the bell ring without him. To think, the amount of detentions she’d receive for tardies would get her a one-way ticket to an eternal grounding from her parents. She sometimes feels bad about how much she relies on Sam and his punctuality. She’s the reason why they nearly make it to class on time. But he doesn’t seem to mind because they always are seated before the bell rings.
Delilah finishes cleaning, and she and Sam walk out of the darkroom. Her eyes squint at the brightness as they slowly adjust to the school’s hideous fluorescent lights. They start to speed walk to their fifth-period class as they discuss their plans for this weekend.
“My parents are going on a camping trip with my sister since she’s back from college for Thanksgiving break,” Sam explains, “So it’s just gonna be me and Teddy.” Teddy is Sam’s Golden Doodle. He’s an adorable and intelligent dog, but Delilah is more of a cat person. “Maybe you can stop by and finally let me beat you at Mario Kart.” Sam is joking, but she knows well enough that he’s desperate to win at least one round.
“In your dreams. Even if I attempted to let you win, you would still manage to get last place,” Delilah says snarkily.
“It’s not my fault I keep falling into space! You always choose the Rainbow Road course and it’s the most difficult track. Totally not fair, Delilah.” He huffs as they pick up their pace, his curly golden hair bobbing up and down as they speed-walk to their classes that’s located on the other side of the high school. The rooms are right across from each other so they have a convenient routine.
She’s stuck in Geometry while Sam’s thoroughly enjoying Junior composition.
Sam has always excelled in academics, especially English. Whereas Delilah struggles in almost every subject except her art and photography classes. Her parents strongly disapproves of her taking them. Her mother said “It’s a complete waste of a child’s precious time. They should be concentrating on real academics that will guarantee them a successful and stable career.” It was hard enough to convince her mom, a highly renowned neurosurgeon, to take these classes. The only way she could convince her mom was to tell her two years of an art class was required in order to graduate.
Her mom and dad did their best to fight the staff and principal and tell them how ‘utterly ridiculous’ and ‘damaging’ creative expression is for young children. They can develop ‘dangerous’ and ‘life-threatening’ ideas like becoming artists or actors. Even if they aren’t a very religious family, pursuing those career choices would be considered a sin in her parent’s eyes.
There were many instances when Delilah felt oh-so grateful that the nearest private girls-only school was three hours away and her parents weren’t able to make the commute. She truly thought they would send her to a boarding school, but they didn’t like the idea of not being able to keep tabs on her every day.
They reach their classrooms as her hand rests on the door knob. She looks over her shoulder to shout back at Sam, “And It’s not my fault you suck at Mario Kart! And besides, I can’t this weekend. My parents are forcing me to tour college campuses that’s close to home.” She rolls her eyes and frowns.
Sam knows how badly she wants to move far away from this shitty town and study photography in a big city. “Don’t stress about it, I totally understand.” Sam nods, “I’ll see you after school!”
Delilah smiles. “At least you’ll have time to practice your non-existent skills. I expect great improvement when I return.”
He laughs nervously and they both head into their different classes. Delilah takes her designated seat in the far back row next to the large windows, revealing the beautiful scene of the woods. She zones out during the entire lecture, daydreaming of a life somewhere with no rules and no strict parents. It was pure bliss until her teacher slams her hand on her desk and she jolts like a startled cat.
